That Which Remains
by viceroy1223
Summary: After the death of Harry Potter and triumph over Hogwarts, Voldemort tightens his grip on the Wizarding World. As his plans to enslave Muggles progress, the remnants of the DA contrive a plan with the resistance leader within the Ministry, Draco Malfoy.
1. Chapter 1: The Plans

**This is an alternative reality story in which the Battle at Hogwarts was won by Voldemort. It takes place 3 years after this battle. Draco Malfoy has remained inside the Death Eaters and working at the Ministry as the leader of an inside resistance. The remnants of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix work from underground. The two resistances team up in the effort to destroy the final Horcrux belonging to Voldemort: Nagini. **

**Just a note so as to not mislead readers: This is not a Draco/Ginny story, although it seems to lead that way toward the beginning. **

**Also, this is my first fanfic, so please leave reviews! ^_^ I'd like to know how I'm doing!**

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At 5:17, things were going to change.

Draco Malfoy's eyes glanced up at the tall grandfather clock in the far corner of his office. Anxiously, he began straightening the papers that covered his desk. He glanced at the clock again. Six more minutes. He played with the idea of leaving early, but realized there was no real reason to do so. Two minutes later, he put the stacks of paper from his desk into his black briefcase and clicked the locks shut. As he tapped his fingers on its edge, he went over his plan in his mind. He didn't want a single glitch. Everything should be perfect.

The grandfather clock in the corner chimed five o'clock and Draco instantly stood, reaching for his briefcase. As his fingers slipped around the handle, a round, dark figure appeared in his doorway.

"You off?" the silhouette said, cheerily. It moved in a bit closer and Draco recognized it as Edgar Kratz.

"Yes, I am, Kratz," he said flatly.

"Well, be careful this weekend, Malfoy," Kratz said with a sincere smile, "I'm sure with the information you're carrying, you'd be a hot target."

Draco's face became creased and solemn, "Are you implying that the rebellion would know of this information—or that I am in possession of it?"

Kratz's eyes bugged and his jaw flapped silently a few times before he managed to say, "Uh, no, Malfoy! Of course not, sir! That's not what I—"

"Glad to hear it." Draco waved his wand over the briefcase and a thin, glowing purple thread issued from its tip wrapping firmly around the locks before disappearing. "Good evening, Kratz," he said and then blew past the shaken man and out the door.

Draco was able to leave the building with only mild interference. His new security clearance cut his exit time in half. He walked up the stairs from the bathroom and walked out into the street. He knew that he needed to get farther away, or the Ministry could track his Apparation. Once he was a few blocks down, he turned on the spot.

He reappeared in a deserted Muggle alleyway and checked his watch: 5:17. _Step one complete;_ n_ow for step two_, he thought, his eyes combing the nearby rubbish bin. He found what he was looking for tucked under a bit of newspaper. It was a rotting apple core, yellow and warm from the heat. He hesitated for a moment then took hold of it and immediately felt a pull from behind his navel. As the portkey whizzed him off through a whir of colors, he gripped his wand firmly in his right hand—there was no telling what he was actually getting into.

When the movement stopped, he was hurled into a small clearing in a rather dense wood. He stepped backwards on impact to prevent falling. The sun was higher in the sky than it was in London. He wondered where he was but didn't give himself long to ponder this. There was business to attend to.

As agreed, Draco whipped his wand through the air sending out a rain of red and gold sparks—a rather unnecessary touch, he thought. He felt as though it put them on a bad start.

After this, he lowered his wand, and waited. Slowly, the Disillusionment Charms placed on those around him faded and the figures of his new associates were revealed. Most hadn't changed from when he had last seen them three years ago.

Longbottom might have procured more scars, but Draco couldn't really recall how many he had to begin with. He was defiantly formidable looking—something Draco never would have expected when he first knew the boy. Granger had managed to put her unruly hair back into a braid. She looked older and a bit more like a girl than he remembered. He looked away quickly, however, due to the ferocity of her glare. It took awhile for Draco to recognize the girl beside Granger. It was Looney Lovegood. Her hair was chopped short against her ears and she had a crescent shaped scar over her left eyebrow. It was her unfocused eyes and uncanny appearance of being "elsewhere" that gave her away. The two Weasley's looked most unchanged. Ginny was still attractive, but with the same annoying look of disdain which never left her face and would drive any man away, and the other one, Ron, was either attempting to sport a beard or merely forgot to shave. Draco also noted that his arm was placed securely around Granger's waste. How quaint.

Despite their correspondence, no one looked happy to see him. Their wands were raised, and Draco raised his own in reaction.

"Put your wands down," Draco said coolly. No one moved. "If I had wanted to kill you, I would have brought The Guard along. I knew I'd be outnumbered."

Ron scoffed, "Oh please, Malfoy. You're so full of yourself, you wouldn't get someone's help! Then you'd have to share the glory from your precious _Dark Lord_."

"I understand you don't trust me!" Draco exploded, stepping forward so that his wand was inches away from Ron's scowl, "but I assure you that I have done more for the Resistance than you ever will."

"Malfoy! Put down your wand this instant!" Granger commanded as she moved herself in front of Ron. Draco backed up. He was more concerned with Granger's wand than anyone else's. Powerful little witch, however much he hated to admit it.

"Do you think I'm stupid, Granger?" Draco asked.

"Weasley," Hermione chimed, wiggling the fingers on her left hand where a silver band was hugging her third finger.

"_Weasley_? There weren't enough in the world already?" he let out a cruel laugh. "Now you'll just start breeding! I bet—"

"ENOUGH!" Longbottom barked. "Alright, now everyone's going to put their wands down at three. One. Two. THREE." Surprisingly enough, all wands fell to the sides of their owners. "Okay, here's the deal. I know that Malfoy isn't the ideal person to be working with. Trust me, I am not his biggest fan."

"Likewise," Draco said.

"Duly noted. However," Longbottom's eyes scanned across the party's faces, "this is our best shot. Maybe are only shot. Things are about to get a lot worse, as I understand." He looked to Draco who gave a heavy nod. "And we can't afford to keep the two resistances standing apart. Malfoy may not be the _first_ person we want around, but he's proven himself. He's the most valuable double agent we have and he's been running the Topside Resistance since...er, for a long time now. We can trust him. We have to."

"He's right," Draco sighed. "This isn't the schoolyard anymore. We can't let our..._feelings_ towards each other get in the way. I have put a lot of work into getting everything into place for this mission."

"Good," Longbottom said. "Then, let's go back to camp and talk about our plans."

Draco followed the crowd through the trees. Apart from Hermione and Ron exchanging a few indistinguishable whispers, no one talked. After a few minutes, they came to a small orange tent situated below two towering pine trees. Longbottom held open the tent's flap and everyone filed in. Inside, Draco followed the group to a small table and took a seat. Once everyone was seated, he slid his briefcase onto the surface. Using his wand, he retracted the purple thread, opened the latches, and flipped open the briefcase.

"These are the most informative drawings I could procure of Nagini's keep." He pulled the parchment out of the briefcase and passed to Longbottom, who glanced at it then passed it on to Lovegood. "I also have a few details I discovered in regards to its protection," he said, pointing to some scrawled writings on the back of the page.

"These are the known whereabouts of the Sword of Gryffindor and a list of those with access to it." He took another parchment. "Honestly, I have little knowledge of the Objects or how to destroy them since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has removed all information about them—not to mention the taboo. From what I hear, you've already used the sword on a few." He gave this sheet to Hermione, knowing she carried the most knowledge on Horcruxes within the resistance.

"These," Draco sighed as he pulled out a thick stack of parchment, "are the most up to date plans on the Muggle Control Unit. As you can see, witches and wizards have been placed in positions of political power in various Muggle governments, including the UK, most of Europe, the US, China, and Japan." He fanned out the pages revealing quite a number of black and white portraits of smiling, waving politicians. "Some got there using magic to secure elections and others are stand-ins using Polyjuice potions. In a few months, they are planning on re-converging our worlds. The first step will be the big reveal. Step two, keep the Muggles calm and compliant. Step three, trim down Muggle population, and step four, total enslavement." Draco tossed the packet to the middle of the table. "We can discuss more after you have all read that."

"Are you sure that this system will fall when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead?" Longbottom asked.

"No," Draco shook his head, "I'm afraid it will be much harder than that." He took the last few sheets of paper out of his briefcase and handed them to Ginny. "These are the forms you'll need to fill out. I'll help you with them so everything goes through smoothly."

"Forms?" Ron asked, craning his neck to try and read them.

"Yes, well, she can't just go waltzing up to the Ministry and hope they like her, now can she?" Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"Wha?...What is this? I don't understand. Neville, what's going on?" Ron face read somewhere between confusion and anger as he turned towards Longbottom.

Neville let out a long sigh. "Look, mate. I know I should have told you, but Ginny's going to have to go topside."

"But, what about that pureblood woman? Helena Randall! I thought she was training for that!"

"Well, I'm afraid her Occlumency was far too poor to put her in such a situation."

"So my kid sister's the best answer for this?" Ron lashed out sarcastically.

"Yes," Longbottom answered with an unusual tone of authority. "Yes she is, Ron. We need a pureblood and we need a skilled one. Ginny _is_ that good. You're letting your relationships get in the way..._again_." Longbottom's eyes flicked over to Hermione.

"Ron, you can't honestly think I would go into this if it was too dangerous or I wasn't prepared," Ginny said.

"Yes, actually. I do," Ron stood up, "I _think_ that ever since Harry died, you've had a knack for running into any dangerous situation without giving it a thought, and you're only going to end up getting killed and Mum will have another grave to cry over!"

"Ron!" Hermione whispered, pulling at his sleeve. He jerked his arm away from her and sat back down. Ginny seemed unfazed. There was a long pause. It didn't feel too uncomfortable to Draco, but he knew that it was to the others. He had seen the headlines last year: "_Known Traitor Killed in Riot_." But Draco knew there hadn't been a riot. Arthur Weasley had been outside his home in a tool shed, tinkering with one of those Muggle picture boxes when the members of Merlin's Guard had barged in and taken him away. Draco had also heard that one of the twins was killed in the occurrence at Hogwarts. They had lost family, but they were far from the only ones who had.

"Fine." Ron said, breaking the silence. He left the table and stormed out of the tent. Hermione glanced around anxiously, then followed him. After watching them leave, Ginny produced a quill and began scratching away at the forms. Draco looked over her shoulder to make sure the answers sounded sufficient.

"Hmmmm," Lovegood hummed. It startled Draco, who had forgotten she was there. "There's something wrong about this picture." She held the drawing at arms length, upside down.

Draco frowned, "Do you think it's inaccurate?"

"No!" she returned with a wistful smile. "I don't know what it is."

Draco gave Longbottom a concerned glance, but he returned it with a reassuring nod. If Longbottom trusted Lovegood's judgment, that was good enough for him. When he found himself making this conclusion, Draco's skin crawled a little.


	2. Chapter 2: The First Visit

"You'll never guess who _just_ applied for Pureblood Amnesty and Registration," Draco said with a smooth grin. He slid the file under the fat, pink-nail-painted fingers of Dolores Umbridge.

"Who is it, Draco?" she asked, as her plump fists wrapped around the bundle of forms. She looked up at him with wide, hungry eyes and a sugar-syrup smile.

"_Ginerva Weasley._"

"A _Weasley_?" she scrunched up her nose as she said the name and then squealed with devilish glee. "How wonderful! Is she really here _now_?"

"Yes, in the corner holding room."

"Splendid! I'll signal the Guard!" She hastily pulled a tiny, handbell out of her desk drawer.

"Wait, my dear Dolores," Draco said calmly, arching his brows in concern. "Perhaps we should think about this a moment."

Umbridge's eyes wafted from side to side in thought. It made her look like a pale toad watching some invisible fly. She seemed at a loss.

"What do you think we should do, Draco?" she asked.

"Well," Draco started as if he was very apprehensive, "I think it would give a good deal of credit to our Reformation Program if we were to bring such a prominent member of the rebellion through as a newly-formed, proper member of society."

Umbridge nodded slowly as a grin spread over her face.

"I think," Draco continued, "that we should put her in the Reformation Houses and have her go through a rigorous course of Legilimency. Also," Draco paused to make sure the next words came out right. This next suggestion was critical to the plan, "I would like to personally observe her for any suspicious activity and to ensure that she stays one hundred percent in line."

Umbridge looked a little too concerned. Draco felt she was obviously uncertain of the situation and didn't want any kind of repercussions on herself if the plan was to go awry. Draco was prepared for this. He leaned forward and gripped Umbridge's shoulder firmly, looking directly into her watery eyes with his own calm, cool, grey ones.

"Dolores," he whispered her name. "Can't you imagine how many more witches and wizards would place their faith in us when they see the _good_ we are doing for this poor misguided witch?" he asked. "When she sees the truth, don't you think others like her will follow? She will be a guiding light for those to resist us to reconcile!"

"You think it will work?" Umbridge asked.

"We won't tell anyone about it until it does," Draco answered. "That way, if things go wrong..." He intentionally let his voice trail off. Umbridge nodded.

"Yes, yeees," she mumbled as she stamped Weasley's forms with a large golden seal, which read _TO BE REFORMED. _"Yes, we better keep it hush-hush."

Draco took the forms back from her and gave her a slight bow and cool smirk, "You won't regret it, Dolores!"

* * *

It was a few days later that Draco had arranged to meet with Ginny in her housing. He brought with him a few books, his wand, and his Ministry of Magic identification pin. He wasn't wearing his uniform since it was considered an "off the record" project. It was quite relieving to be back in his own robes perfectly tailored robes made of emerald-green crushed velvet. They did so much more for his appearance than those cheap navy Ministry robes.

Like the Ministry Headquarters, the Reformation Houses were underground. The entrance was a small, perfectly square, white building. It had no windows and only one door with a mail slot and no doorknob. Malfoy took his wand out of his pocket and dropped it through the mail slot. A few moments later, the door swung inwards and Draco stepped inside.

On the other side of the door, on the far side of the room, sat a tall, stern looking wizard. He was putting Draco's wand on a red silk pillow behind a glass counter. He cleared his throat and spoke in a gruff voice,

"The subject you are visiting is still in Stage One and is therefore not allowed to use magic until we are more certain of her intentions. For your own safety, we will be keeping your wand." The man handed Draco a slip of paper. "This is where your subject is staying. Please use the dial beside the door." After finishing his little spiel, the man picked up a copy of _Celestina Warbeck: Pouring Out the Cauldron_ from behind the counter and began reading.

Draco looked down and the paper the man had given him. It read,

SUBJECT 721 HOUSE: 56-B

He then turned back to the door he had just come through, as it was the only door in the room. A small golden dial—much like one on a radio—was on the wall to the left of the door. IT was set at 0-A. He spun it several full turns, each time the numbers getting higher, until he reached 56-B. He then reopened the door. It was pitch black, but he quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Immediately, the floor beneath him began plummet downwards. He was falling at such an alarming rate, that the soles of his feet lifted off the ground. When he finally stopped (rather harshly) he found himself looking at what appeared to be a charming little house in the confines of a cave. A soft glow came off the porch light and made visible the inviting front door and cheery windows. 56-B was engraved in a bronzed plaque above the doorbell. Draco walked up the steps of the porch and tenatively knocked. Ginny immediately answered. He assumed she had been waiting.

"I have assured our privacy. No one is allowed to watch us or listen to our conversations in any manner. They think, of course, it is for security purposes." Draco informed her.

Ginny took a step back, and allowed Draco to slip through the door. Inside was much brighter. The windows had been enchanted so that it appeared that her house was located in the sunny countryside rather than underground. She closed the door behind them and turned to face Draco. She was wearing thread bare cream colored robes with the number 721 stitched above a chest pocket. She looked as though she hadn't slept in days.

"You look awful!" he exclaimed.

"Gee, thanks, Malfoy," she mumbled as led him through the entryway into the den.

She sat her self on the far edge of a periwinkle colored sofa and he sat on a matching overstuffed chair near her.

"You can relax; no reason for Occlumency now." Draco watched as Ginny's face became less creased and her eyes softened. They met Draco's with a sense of exhaustion. He was a little concerned she might just collapse into sleep. "They don't expect anything," he told her. "Your records read you as a true convert. It will only be a few more days until you are promoted to Stage Two. Then, you'll have less Legilimency appointments. Of course, in order for the promotion, you will have to go through another Veritaserum questioning, but you've done well on those as well."

He smiled a little, expecting a little nudge of confidence might aid the plan to go on more smoothly. To his surprise, rather than smiling back, she almost scoffed. He put away his smile instantly, and returned to a formal demeanor.

"Well," he continued, "you will also get your wand back at Stage Two...so, that's good." There was a bit of an awkward pause. Draco had hoped that going over the current situation would have taken longer. He had to stay here for a certain amount of time to make his visit appear legitimate. After he was pretty certain she had nothing to say on the information he had given her, he reached for the stack of books. "Here, it would look good for you to read these."

He handed her the small stack. She took it and spread them out on the coffee table, reviewing the titles. They included, _The Muggle Nuisance_, _Our Search for Purity, _and _Mudbloods: The Damage of Interblood Marriages. _Ginny's face became a shade of red that clashed oddly with her orange hair. He could see tears well up in her eyes; though, she seemed deathly intent on not letting any spill out.

"You don't have to read them," Draco spat out. "If you just have them sitting around I'm sure—"

"Whatever," Ginny growled under her breath.

"Look here," he pushed one of the books to the side to reveal a glossy magazine with a graceful witch whizzing about on a broom, "I also brought you this. It's the Quidditch Quarterly."

Ginny picked it up and fluttered through the pages. Draco continued with a bit more confidence. "You know, the Ministry has been putting a lot of effort into professional quidditch. It keeps the masses entertained and distracted. You should try to get involved." He paused for a bit, waiting for a morally outraged bomb to drop. Ginny said nothing. He cleared his throat. "Because, I remember you being a pretty good seeker and I think it would mean a lot to the Ministry if they could put you up on a pedestal like that."

"Thanks," she mumbled, briefly meeting his eyes. It was a sincere thanks this time. He felt relieved. However, the rest of the visit could be described as generally hostile. Ginny made Draco some tea. Draco followed it up with the ever-so-elegant gag and the question,

"Don't do this without magic often, do you, Weasley?"

After that, it was like they had picked off a scab. The old hatred and rivalry was stirred up again and neither could open their mouths without making a vicious jab at the other.

After a painful two hours of immense efforts not to verbally insult each other—which wasn't too effective—Draco stood up to take his leave.

"I have a meeting this week with your brother and Granger, er, your sister-in-law. Is there anything you want them to know."

"Not anything that could remotely be delivered through you."

Draco sighed and walked to the door. Ginny saw him out silently, scowling the whole way.

"Oh," Draco added, "you should resume your Occlumency as soon as I leave. I'll be back next week."

"Can't wait," she said as she swung the door to shut. He caught it with his hand.

"Good luck, Ginny." Draco said. She pushed the door firmly shut. He stepped back and shook his head, wishing that had gone better. At least the mission seemed on track. He turned back into the darkness and zoomed off to the surface.


	3. Chapter 3: One Weasley Short

Draco rolled the enchanted Galleon across his knuckles. Along the edge read a brief description of a portkey, where to find it, and what time it was to be activated. He waited for the correct time beside a dingy and empty apartment building, keeping his eye on a rusty watering can. He didn't approve of this location much. It was in the middle of a very shady Muggle neighborhood. He had worn Muggle clothes so not to attract any attention, but on the contrary, people seemed keenly aware and interested in his presence. He had donned a pair of black dress slacks and had a nicely pressed white button down shirt he wore under his green sweater. A matching tie seemed in order, he thought. So he wore one of those, as well. Now, in the twilight hours of the questionable neighborhood, he wished he had worn his robes so that people might think him insane and leave him alone.

A smooth, female voice cooed from his wristwatch. "Time to go," it said. Draco leaned down and graciously took the watering can. He walked around the corner where he would be alone and within a few seconds, the portkey was activated, and he was pulled away to his new location.

He was plopped down in the dark on the sandy surface of a beach, for which he was grossly overdressed. His dress shoes slid out from under him and he fell squarely on his buttocks. He heard a giggle from the shadows. Hermione stood next to the cliff face that ran along the beach with a ball of light forming at the tip of her wand. It lifted off and floated above them. Draco stood up and brushed the sand off of his clothes.

"Oh, ha, ha!" Draco mocked with his best sneer.

Hermione simply rolled her eyes and shook her head. Without a single word, she twirled her wand in a circle and the sand beneath their feet rose and took the shape of two chairs and a table. Furthermore, Draco realized, they changed from sand into glass. Hermione sat down and motioned Draco towards the other chair. He sat down, as well. He felt very uncomfortable with her magic. He, admittedly, had never seen anything like this and seriously doubted his ability to perform it if he had the opportunity.

"Well, I assume you are wondering where Ron is," Hermione said. As a matter of fact, Draco had forgotten for the time being. However, as always, Hermione didn't require an actual question to give an answer. "He isn't coming," she said firmly. "He feels as though this is something I can do on my own and, honestly, he doesn't want to have anything to do with you." She said this as if it was meant to cut Draco to the quick. It didn't though. "In fact, if it were up to me, I wouldn't have anything to do with you either." Draco looked up at her with raised eyebrows as if to say, "_Well, too bad._"

"I share his feelings, but," Draco fumbled around in his back pocket and pulled out a slender black cigarette, "it is his sister, after all." He slipped the cigarette between his lips and began lighting it with the tip of his wand. "I don't personally have any sense of sibling relationships, but doesn't that seem odd?" He got out a successful puff of smoke, but then the cigarette flew out of his hand.

"Are you serious?" Hermione asked indignantly. She had caught the summoned cigarette in her fingers. Draco reached out for it, but she quickly dropped it in the sand and put it out with her toe.

"Well, I have plenty more," Draco stated firmly. "Are you going to do that to every one of them?" Hermione simply crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Draco shrugged and lifted up his hands in surrender. "I guess you're calling the shots, here, Weasley."

Hermione sighed, "Why don't you just use my first name? There are a many people to which you could be referring."

"That's an understatement," Draco said. "Alright, _Hermione, _you can call me Malfoy."

"Certainly. I think we should keep this as non-colloquial as possible."

"Good," Draco retorted. Although, he had hoped his blatant unfriendliness would have gotten a more interesting reaction. "Well, let me update you on We—Ginny's situation."

Hermione listened far more attentively than Ginny had. She had plenty of questions—almost too many. It was grating on Draco's nerves. However, when he finally got to describing his visit and its poor ending, Hermione was quiet and pensive. She looked down at her hands in her lap. Draco sat awkwardly waiting for her to say something.

"Poor Ginny," Hermione whispered. She spoke her words very slowly. "It's very hard for her, you know? After she lost Fred and Harry...and now her father, too. She's lost a lot for the cause. More than most of us." Draco clenched his jaw and held his tongue. He didn't want to get into any arguments, nor did he want to bring up the subject of his own losses. "My parents are safe in Australia." Hermione looked up at Draco with misty eyes. "Is it true about your parents? Neville said—"

"Yes," Draco said, looking her back firmly in the eyes. "I was under the Imperius Curse. My parents insisted. They knew it was the only way I could live and also be in the Dark Lord's graces." He stated the situation as tersely as possible. But somehow he knew she was going to keep on pressing. It was just in her character. It always had been.

"But, the Imperius Curse...it wasn't your fault, then," she said with a bright tone as if no one had ever thought at it from that angle. Her naivete just made him more upset.

"Come on, Hermione. You're a smart witch. You know that you can fight it. But I didn't. I'm sure a part of me just wanted to live, no matter the cost." His jaw tightened further. He refused to cry in front of her. It would be too degrading.

"But, if they wanted you to—! And if you hadn't, we wouldn't be able to do what we're doing now!"

"STOP TRYING TO JUSTIFY IT!" Draco erupted. "I used the Killing Curse on both of them! I looked right into my mother's eyes while she was crying and telling me she _loved_ me, and I killed her!" He laughed, coldly. Hermione sat in an open-mouthed stupor. She looked quite close to tears, but he didn't care. He didn't deserve her pity and he wanted to ensure he didn't get it. "Do you know what the last words my father said were? Do you? He said, 'I'm proud of you, Draco.' He was _proud_ of me. What kind of sick and deranged thinking went into that one? Sure, now all of this comes in _handy_, but when it happened, all I knew was that it was either me, or them."

"Malfoy, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," Hermione cut herself off with a collective sigh, "to assume anything. I shouldn't have asked," she said, returning to her professional demeanor as quickly as possible. She pressed on, but was notably shaken. "Now, we need to get Ginny through this process as quickly as possible. If you have any strings to pull, I'm going to need you to pull them. Once she's out, we, of course, have our current plan of getting her a job in Security at the Ministry under your recommendation." Draco nodded. "But, I was thinking of an alternative."

"Go on," Draco said. He was trying to calm his tone so that he sounded less vicious.

"Well, we know that getting her up the professional ladder may take awhile. Perhaps longer than we have." She bit her lower lip in thought. "Although it's more dangerous, I was thinking of a more direct route." Hermione's hand stretched across the table to brush Draco's left forearm. An involuntary and infuriating blush crossed Draco's cheeks. He hoped that in the dim light, Hermione hadn't seen it. He looked down at her hand on his arm and realized what she was saying.

"Ginny should become a Death Eater?" asked Draco, surprised by the suggestion.

"Your notes on Nagini's keep say that it's is guarded by Death Eaters. I know that with a lot of work, we can get you and Ginny in there, but if Ginny was also a Death Eater, you could take on the mission much faster and with less chance of mishap. She'll still get a job with the Ministry, of course. That way we'll have better access to the sword."

"This seems out of character for you," Draco mused. "From what I recall, you were always quite the rule follower. Never stepped out of line. Always a careful thinker. What has made you wander off the straight and narrow? Aren't you worried for Ginny?"

"Yes, of course!" Hermione answered, suddenly very sheepish. "I have thought this through many, many times. I know the dangers and I want you to make sure Ginny knows them as well before she agrees to it. Normally, I would want to take the safer choice, but, the Muggle world," she seemed to struggle for her words, "it can't really protect itself, and there's a lot at risk. It just seems like once it's started, we won't be able to stop it. And so many people—"

"People like your family?" Draco asked. He sounded a bit more accusatory than he intended to. She nodded.

"But, we can't tell anyone else," Hermione said. "I just want you to give Ginny the option and if she agrees, then we will have to keep it secret—especially from Ron."

Draco was surprised to hear her say that. However, he was not against the plan. It would be very difficult to achieve, but Hermione was right, it would take less time. Looking at her from across the glass table he realized that this was the longest conversation her had ever held with Hermione—not to mention the only time they had been alone. It was very odd for him to see her as a cohort. It was even stranger to take into consideration her motives, thoughts, and feelings. She was looking at him intently, awaiting his reply; her face, framed by a tousle of brown curls. Her eyes held a tender air of concern.

"I'll talk to Ginny, and if she agrees, then I'll keep it between the three of us," he told her.

"Thank you, Draco." Hermione said, ignoring Draco's request regarding his name. He didn't correct her. She gave him a relieved smile. He found himself smiling back, slightly, which he quickly smothered with an expressionless face. At this moment, Hermione became aware that her hand was still resting on Draco's arm and she quickly pulled away and put it back in her lap. "That's all we really need to go over this week. Keep watch over your D.A. coin, and I'll update it with next week's meeting information."


	4. Chapter 4: The Snag

Ginny sat with her elbows on the kitchen table. Her hands were clasped together and gently resting against her lips. She had looked better ever since she had been promoted to Stage Two. The color had returned to her face and her stature was more relaxed. Draco was most pleased that she had been given her wand back. The tea had been much better.

"I've been thinking about what you brought up last week, Malfoy," Ginny said. "And, I think I should do it."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked.

"Hermione's right. Things are moving too quickly. If I don't become a Death Eater, we may be too late."

"Good. I agree." Draco took another sip of tea and then set down his cup. "I'll bring it up to the proper authorities near the end of your Reformation process. You do realize this means that you will be in the presence of the Dark Lord rather frequently, correct?"

Ginny nodded."I've been much closer to him than the average person," she said.

"Yes, that's right," Draco said, "I suppose you have." Draco stirred a bit more cream into his tea. The spoon made a light _tink tink tink _against the cup. "Well, then," Draco started but then realized there wasn't really anything he had to say. He simply stopped the statement there.

"Yes," Ginny said, equally as awkward. At least they were no longer fighting. They drank their tea in silence and then Draco handed her another Quidditch Quarterly, took his coat, and headed for the door. Last week, Ginny had given him a message for Ron, but Draco abruptly informed her that Ron had taken himself out of the mission. Seeing her disappointment, he promised to have Hermione give Ron the message. This week Ginny gave him the same message. She wanted to let Ron know that she was fine and that she missed him.

After the meeting, Draco headed home. It was a sunny but cool Wednesday afternoon, and he had gotten the day off for his visit with Ginny, so he decided to spend it reading in the sun room. He walked up the pathway to the tall front doors of the Malfoy Manor. An albino peacock had situated itself directly in front of the main entrance with it's tail spread wide. Draco shooed it away with his foot and opened the door. As he lit up the room, he heard a scuttle of clumsy footsteps in the other room and the whisper of tiny house elf voices. He remembered back when he lived with his family, he didn't notice the house elves much at all, but now that he was alone, he could almost always hear them. When he sat himself in the sun room, one rushed in with a silver tea tray. He held the tray out to Draco. On it sat a steaming cup of Earl Grey, a plate of scones, and the current Daily Prophet. Draco snatched up the newspaper.

"I just had tea," Draco informed him. The house elf hurried out of the room again.

He had barely glanced over the front page when someone began furiously knocking at his door. He heard a shift of metal and glass as the same house elf moved his tray about to answer. Draco heard the door swing open.

"I need to speak to Mr. Malfoy immediately!" Draco recognized the voice. It was Astoria Greengrass. She was an Auror a few years younger than Draco, but she had been involved with the rebellion far longer than he had. Before there was even an organized resistance, Astoria had used her blood status to climb to the top of the Auror department. The department had done a complete one-eighty since Voldemort's control of the Ministry. Wizards once hunted by Aurors had become Aurors themselves, and their wanted list was now full of rebellion groups such as Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix. Astoria had been using her position to sabotage Auror missions and keep the department one step behind the rebels. So far, everything had gone well in that aspect, which is why the panicked tone in Astoria's voice caused Draco to leap from his seat and bolt to the entryway. She stood beside his house elf looking disheveled and out of breath.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked.

"Draco! There's been a raid!" she said between heavy breaths. "Another branch of the department—_gasp_—found some of the Order!" She calmed her breath and gasped Draco's arms firmly. "Luna Lovegood has been captured."

"Lovegood? I—" Draco felt his stomach drop to his knees. "She has the map of Nagini's keep."

"How good is her Occlumency?" Astoria questioned.

"I, I don't know," Draco answered. With purpose, he moved towards the den. "I'll contact Longbottom, he'll know."

"No, no, no!" Astoria stopped him. "The Ministry has its feelers out right now. Any suspicious activity will send up a red flag. We have to figure out what to do with absolutely no contact with the Underground."

"Well, should we consider...termination?" Draco asked, hoping that was the correct term to use.

"Possibly." Astoria said without flinching. "We will as a last resort." Draco was taken aback at how easily Astoria took the consideration of killing someone. He wondered if she ever had. There _had_ been a war and most people he knew had been involved. It was far more likely in this day and age to know people who have murdered.

Draco took a second to collect himself. Sure, Astoria had been doing this longer than he had, but he still had a leadership position for a reason, and that is exactly why she had come to him. He needed to manage this situation. "Who was involved in this raid, and who do we have that's closest to it?"

Astoria bit her lower lip in thought. "Um, I know we don't have anyone on the team that found them."

"What about those in charge of holding? Where did they take her?"

Astoria shook her head in futility. "Azakaban."

There was no way for the resistance to infiltrate Azakaban—not unless they could win over a Dementor. There were no human guards on the island whatsoever. Inmates were delivered by portkey and instructions were conveyed through a two way mirror. Visitation was completely prohibited. Anyone who was not a prisoner had no reason, or means, to be on the island at all.

"Well, do we know about the questioning? When is she to be questioned and by whom?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm certain I could find out."

"Alright, then let's make that our goal." Draco said firmly. "No matter what, we must intercept her before she is questioned. We cannot afford to lose this mission."

"I agree," Astoria said. "I'll gather any information I can about Lovegood and I'll report back as soon as I can."

"Yes, but for now, I think you should go home to calm down. If you are this shaken up at the Ministry it will cause suspicion." He scooped his arm around the small of her back and led her to the den. He noticed her eyes flicking back at his arm and a brief flush of red dance across her cheeks. He had done it on purpose. He was aware of Astoria's feelings toward him and often played off of them. He was a little ashamed that he would do so even now, but over the years he had developed a sort of reflexive charm with women. He attributed the quirk to his Slytherin roots. What tended to drive Draco was sheer ambition, and he had learned that with a touch of smugness, a dash of family wealth, and the perfect smirk, he could get almost anything he wanted.

"Trilly!" Draco called. A female house elf came lumbering into the den. She had huge, watery blue eyes and a mess of red hair that jutted out like a crown of straw.

"Trilly, will you get Miss Greengrass some Floo Powder? She's going home." Trilly gave an exaggerated nod and with a loud pop, a bag of purple powder was in her long fingers.

Draco tossed a handful into his fireplace. "You go home and rest for a while. Go back to the Ministry as soon as you feel able to behave normally under the pressure." He moved a lock of Astoria's blonde hair behind her ear and gave her a gentle smile. She was instantly red and she leaned towards his face just slightly. _This is just too easy_, Draco thought. Then he remembered the situation again and immediately removed his hands from her.

This seemed to pull her out of it as well, and she looked up at him with a serious and determined look. "And you need to keep your lines with the Underground completely invisible. No communication." Draco nodded and Astoria stepped backwards into the fireplace.

When she had gone, Draco turned around. "Oy!" He heard footsteps coming from all different corners of the manor. When all the movement had stopped, four house elves stood in a line in front of him all with matching little dishtowels tied around them like tunics. All of them were fidgeting in some way or another. "If anyone asks," Draco said, "Miss Greengrass came in for tea and then had to leave because she wasn't feeling well. Understand?" They all nodded. Their large heads on their tiny bodies made them look like a collection of bobble heads. "Alright, you can go." They scattered off.

Draco made his way up the tall staircase to his room. He had kept his childhood bedroom. The master bedroom remained untouched. He sat down on the edge of his bed and rubbed his eyes with his palms. He didn't really like the idea of waiting, but he had no choice at the moment. He pushed his hands into his pockets and felt the galleon Hermione had given him on his fingertips. The coin instantly became warm. He yanked it out of his pocket and read along the edge:

MUST MEET ASAP STAND BY FOR INSTRUCTIONS


End file.
